On December 17 I taught an abstract painting workshop in Calgary. I didn’t know this for sure at the time, but in this workshop I would make my last painting of 2011.

Just like everyone else in the class, I started with a blank canvas. And in front of the class, I painted this work from beginning to end.

There are so many directions this work could have taken. I could have decided that "it happened too fast” or that “it just isn’t complicated enough” or that “it’s too simple”.

for some reason, I usually tell myself these things so I rarely leave a workshop with a finished painting. There is just so much to show my students! And so I paint and re-paint the same canvas over and over again. This process takes time and it's impossible to finish so many layers in one class.

This time however, as I surveyed the painting I thought: “This is done. I don’t want to do anything else to this”.

How appropriate it is that this is my last painting of the year. It’s such a simple piece. It’s direct, straight forward and it works!

It reminds me of the way I use to paint in the beginning. Jump in and jump out. Fast, uncomplicated. Somehow I’ve managed to make things so complex! Which, I know has it’s own kind of beauty, but there is something magical to be said about the beauty in the simplicity of a single layer of colour and water.

Note to self in the New Near: Complicated does not necessarily equal a better painting. And just because I can make things complex and multi layered it does not make me a better artist.

On our way home from BC, we stopped by Canada House Gallery in Banff. What a fabulous gallery this was! Nature themes? Yes. Animal themes? Yes. Mostly representational? Yes. As you would expect an art gallery in Banff to be right?

I learned from one of the staff that the best selling artist in the gallery (the gallery represents over 50) is an artist named Les Thomas.

Personally, I found his work extremely amusing. Imagine a large canvas with a painting of a bear on it. Now imagine the whole thing covered with large, pink polka dots, including the bear itself! If I were the type to hang pictures of animal in my home this would be the way I would do it!

You don't need an expensive camera or a course in photography to have fun with your camera or to use your own photographs as a starting point for your paintings.

Yesterday afternoon on my way to British Columbia, I took these from the passenger seat of a moving car. Once I had uploaded them on my laptop, I used iPhoto to manipulate the images. 

Decide you can't afford a drawing (or a painting!) class and get new jeans to console yourself.

How To Avoid Making Art (Or Anything Else You Enjoy)
Julia Cameron

A few days ago I asked my blog readers what they wanted me to blog about. 

A single, but extremely thoughtful and intelligent comment came back: "I'd love to hear what's behind your pieces - what they mean when you make them".

This comment rocked my world. Shook my foundation. "It's time!" I thought. My mind started racing, trying to figure out a way in which I could accomplish this. Here's a bit of an insight into what's been on my mind lately:

You want to know what it means. Why I paint the things I do. I am afraid to tell you.

I am afraid to be so vulnerable. Afraid to be judged and criticized for the decisions I have made. Also, I can't help thinking how all of this is going to affect my professional reputation. Will my works/classes sell better or worse?

I am also afraid that my family will be angry with me for making public the more personal aspects of their lives. "It’s not anybody else’s business", they will say. "Do you have to tell them everything? Can’t you tell them what it means and censor at the same time?"

My answer is no. Of course not. That wouldn't be me! I either tell you what my works really mean or I don’t. 

When asked this question in the past, my answer has varied depending on who was asking the question in the first place. A passer by would receive a quick and easy response, while my students or close friends would receive a more personal, detailed answer.

I can't exactly make that discretion on a blog now can I?

With all of this information, questions, doubts and fears floating around in my brain there is also a growing excitement. I've always wanted to share what my works mean. This has been a wish of mine since the very begginning. I've just been too afraid to do it! 

Why? Because even though there is a possibility that my worst fears will come true, there is also a (and I feel like this is even bigger) possibility that I have so much to gain! 

So, every month starting in January 2012, I will choose two paintings to write about and tell you what they really mean. No censorship. (Gulp)

Here goes nothing…

Simply incredible views from the plane on my way home to Calgary. 

Besides the gorgeous arrangement of colours, this image is a perfect example of atmospheric perspective. This is a term I refer to quite often as I teach my starting point for abstract painting. 

Notice that the sky is darker blue at the top of the picture. As your eye nears the horizon, the colours fade into a lighter blue and eventually to white. The opposite is true when we notice the foreground. The image is darkest at the bottom and as the eye moves towards the horizon line, the colours fade. 

Besides using nature and atmospheric perspective as a starting point in our paintings, this is also a great way to create the illusion of depth on the canvas.

Christmas day was spent on a snow coach tour of Yellowstone National Park. It's not my first time here. But every time is a unique experience. Amazing!

I am feeling so inspired! I can't wait to hit the studio again. I am loving the light and dark in these photos. The shapes of the shadows, the movement of the steam, the unique texture of the terrain. I want to capture it all on a canvas. I am thinking that concrete will be able to help me achieve both the colour and the texture I am looking for. 

PS Merry Christmas

One of my favorite winter activities is snowmobiling. It's so easy even I can do it! And it's so much fun. We had a blast.

Remember the wall hanging in the bedroom we used to share when we were little?

It read "God Made Us Sisters, Love Made Us Friends"

You are my best friend. I love you. Thank you for a wonderful time.

xoxo 

your big sis

When I tell someone I am an artist, I can usually see their perception of me change right before my eyes. Artists are wild, care free, drunks, drug addicts, promiscuous, crazy, weird and poor, to name a few commonly assumed stereotypes.

I can remember a conversation I had with someone once. When I told the guy I was an artist his eyes glossed over almost immediately. He then said, "As an artist, you must go to some pretty wild parties". I found his assumption both surprising and amusing. "Yes, I certainly do". I decided not to burst his bubble and indulge myself in the hilariousness of the situation.

I related this story to a group of friends, all of whom were artists, musicians and actors. They could all relate to being stereotyped. Collectively, we decided that the best answer to a question of this type would be to tell people we attend "butter" parties. Intriguing? Most definitely! Except none of us have any idea what a butter party is.